It Matters Not
by puzzlepuzzle
Summary: Oneshot, a segment from Truth Be Told. Athrun is facing a separation, but he knows he'll never be rid of Cagalli even if she wants him to be. Their parting is bitter but she carries something within her that will remind her of Athrun, his children.


**I wrote this one-shot as some preview of Truth be Told, I suppose mapping this all out is sort of like a spoiler, but what the heck, I wanted to do this. The end of this is left hanging, I suppose the actual story solves that in the end. If you hate plot spoilers, don't read this. And if you want to have happy endings (which I can assure you, will be provided in the actual story) then don't read this either. And if you don't like any threats to ASUCAGA, then you best stay away, those who don't believe there's such a thing as marital woes and happy-ever-after-nots. Heh.**

I don't own GS/GSD.

R&R please.

* * *

**It Matters Not.**

He appears as a silent, fair-tempered, if not exceptionally tolerating person. Sometimes, the world sees Athrun Zala as part political figure, part military leader. But he is none of these, not as much as he is a single man, facing the world that sees him differently as he sees himself. He is legendary, he appears in History textbooks, they show him, or rather, the Justice in the early years, then the Infinite Justice.

The books list his name amongst the world's greatest war heroes, and they conveniently leave out the fact that he is a defector of ZAFT, not once, but twice.

Imagine that!

He defected, the first time to seek the truth and fight for himself, and the second, a desperate, if not dastardly attempt to live. The texts somehow forget to tell those who read them that he is Athrun Zala, not just a war-hero and ace pilot who brought peace in both wars. He is the son of a genocidal man whose lifelong ambition to serve his country became something a little more than personal when Lenore Zala died in the inferno of the Junius Seven Tragedy.

These books, they fail to mention that Athrun Zala is a reluctant warrior, his situation wasn't predetermined by him, he stumbled more than once, he muddled his way through, he knew not what he was doing for most of the first and second wars, not until the end of course. The children he sees in the park recognise him instantly, they look up at him with awe apparent in their wide eyes, their mothers stare at him and titter like excited birds, their fathers gaze admiringly at him, never mind that they are his seniors.

And they forget that his hands are stained with blood and that he carries a pistol, modified no less, under his immaculate coat as he smiles politely, passively acknowledging that he is indeed Athrun Zala.

He never bothers clarifying these things; they matter not.

Athrun Zala is popular even by a politican's standards, not that he is one, of course. His father was the Chairman of the PLANTs at one time, his grandfather a key politcal figure, and the members of the past Zala Houses something of that effect too. And perhaps, that is why Athrun refuses to have a hand in the political scene, but he realises that he can never be a soldier that fights mindlessly under instructions issued by another.

He said that himself, funny how the more important things aren't quoted in those tabloids.

(They rather talk about him and his wife, they discuss the match made in-)

But never mind, he ignores those as well, those matter not.

He tries to think so anyway, he tries to believe he doesn't awake in an empty bed at night, cold, needy and worst- lonely.

He didn't mean to have an effect on the political world, but somehow, he has returned to an arena he dreads because his father once ruled this very arena. And Athrun Zala didn't mean to love anyone, not in a time as chaotic as war, but then he did, didn't he?

And the ironic thing is, he fell in love with his best friend's twin, and then he tried to marry her and she was already techincally married. And when she tried to say she wanted him, he wasn't interested anymore, and then when he was again, she was more interested in ORB.

Stupid, really.

Funny how they were like parallel lines back then, until he finally made her his when they married.

And then the lines became parallel again.

Sometimes, he flips on the television so that the sounds block thoughts from permeating his mind. And sometimes, just sometimes, he sees pictures of himself, dressed impeccably as he was taught from young. Sometimes he appears as the subject of talkshows, most desirable men-of-the-day, that sort of rubbish he dreads but is fascinated by, because shows like these show the female counterparts.

And amongst them, he can always find her, and the pictures of her do her no justice. In these pictures, she is subdued, meek, held back by chains her father unwittingly slashed through her wrists when he died, captive to responsiblities she shoulders bravely.

And in these pictures, he sees a woman-child who once held innocent hope that will carried everything through. Her hair, still kept short in general but touching her shoulders slightly, looks more like straw than sunshine in these pictures, her eyes are distant and detached. He tries hard not to notice these, they matter not, nothing should when it concerns Cagalli Yula Atha.

They are apart now, nothing should matter when it concerns her, not anymore, anyway.

Of course, she handles ORB supremely, she isn't a princess for nothing. Athrun Zala likes to recall how she refused to have anything to do with him for a while, it was ORB this, ORB that, until they got married and she took things in the right perspectives. Then when his cup was about to run over with happiness, she miscarried.

It's all hushed, of course, nobody said anything, so nobody says anything.

They never told Kira and Lacus about her pregnancy, it was meant to be a surprise.

(On hindsight, it was lucky they didn't know she was pregnant, because not telling them about the miscarriage, the accident, was easier in the long run.)

She was broken from inside, he knew it when he rushed to the hospital and found her slumbering like an angel, except there were crude tubes and needles sticking into her limbs in an obscene fashion and there was a mask to give her oxygen.

When she woke up, she didn't even know what had happened. He broke the news to her only after she asked nervously, "How's the-"

He had just looked away.

It was supposed to heal, these things. But some wounds are deep, and he wasn't too good a healer in any case, he thinks now that he made the wound close on the surface, but underneath, it was eating her from inside out.

She became more distant, so did he. He thought it was just some period of lull in their lives, he thought the space he gave her was healing. He didn't know she was losing faith in him, in their marriage, in everything.

And he continued to leave her alone, he thought she needed to be alone, but she had just looked at him one day and told him, "Here are the papers. Take them."

Of course he did, what was he to do otherwise? Start crying and prostrating himself and begging her to give him, no them, another chance?

He was proud, yes, she was proud too, even prouder, perhaps. He loved her for that.

And those papers, he'd chucked them aside somewhere in the apartment he had rented in Aprilius.

Some tabloids hounded his whereabouts, and he quietly draws up some papers and sues them. They stop after a while, no more of this comes up again. He should feel happy, but now there's just the good ol' numbness.

She was like a ray of hope in the First War, rash and careless at times, yes, but then her eyes held no malice, her words no deceit. And when he had leapt onto her, attacking her on an island he had been stranded on by a sheer stroke of Fate, she had screamed in terror when he had plunged the knife down. He had paused then, rain trickling down the sides of his face, his eyes shocked, and then he was surprised that he hadn't seen that the soldier was a girl. She was pitifully bedraggled after the impromptu tussle, but then her bearing was proud and strong, she wore gloves that masked how tiny her hands were, how child-like she was. And he had ended up having his wounds tended by her, and the memory of the concern in her golden eyes still brings a slight pang to him when he fails to erase such memories from his being.

And Athrun Zala knows that there is no place he can return to without feeling bitter, even while he smiles kindly at those who point excitedly when he happens to pass by. A girl stopped him the other day, she was some ambassador's secretary, and then she asked for his signature and he gave it to oblige her. The next thing he knew, she was trying to kiss him, her arms were entwined around his neck, she had invaded his lap.

Cagalli never did that.

He should have been tempted at the offer of carving the loneliness out of his life and his nights, but he winded up being more disgusted than anything else.

He told her emotionlessly, "I have a wife."

She said cheerfully, "I know! Not around though, is she, you're in PLANT, she's in ORB, surely a year's enough to bring the loneliness to your head?"

He called security in and continued his work quietly as she was dragged out, not hearing her curses and her attempts to assert that the Chairman of ETERNITY had sent for her.

He is under no obligations to stay faithful, he doesn't have to have a husband's fidelity.

Not with those papers around, anyway.

But somehow, he is still tied to another and he doesn't know how to let go.

He is by no means a celebrity, rather, a well-known figure, possibly the textbook's fault. His friend, Kira, has none of these problems, the EA which his friend formerly fought for, is still busy white-washing their crimes, leaving out the most gruesome truths for the children to discover themselves. And so, two years after the Second War, (funny how humans never learn from their mistakes) is enough to make Athrun Zala despise the very roots of his name and family.

Sometimes, he goes drinking with a friend who strangely, seems to despise him as much as Athrun depsises himself at times.

(He cannot go with Kira, Kira would know that Athrun and Cagalli are on a self-declared alimony and try to meddle.)

Athrun does not, really, does not want that.

So he drinks with someone who is neither a good listener or has the temper to hear about Athrun's mistakes.

But then, Yzak is typically Yzak, he is the owner of an unregrettably foul temper, the ability to lose his cool at the drop of a pin, and he is a terribly competitive person overall. There is a common saying about the Commander Joule in the ZAFT barracks, 'There's no faster way to be handed a death warrant than by offending Yzak Joule.'

Of course, this could have been made up on the spur of the moment, but there is no hiding the slight fear that comes with the tremendous respect the soldiers and PLANT has for his friend.They go drinking quite regularly, not so much the act itself, but the company they keep. Yzak Joule has a glare that forces fear into the bravest of cadets, but then his loyalty is unwavering when it concerns his friends, and Athrun understands that the friend who does not acknowledge him likewise is ultimately, still a friend. Yzak Joule has became the man Athrun is glad to know, just, proud, strong. He still has a mean streak, that is obvious in the way his cynicism punches through every word that leaves his lips, but then Athrun, who nobody has ever accused of having a mean streak, is sometimes jealous of Yzak Joule.

Because Yzak Joule has a place to go back to, where someone is waiting patiently for him to return.

And Yzak Joule knows this, his eyes soften from shards of crystal blue to pools of azure when he thinks nobody notices, but Athrun does when he sees a particular person moving past his friend to go to her beloved ZAKUs. And sometimes, Athrun listens to Yzak's woes, and that, of course, would be equivalent to a fair exchange that makes them good drinking partners.

* * *

**Meyrin.**

Athrun Zala, these days, wants of no other company than himself or Yzak, and Meyrin Hawke understands this, but understanding doesn't make accepting easy either.

She was a fool for him at sixteen, and six years later, she knows she is still the fool for Athrun Zala.

There are times when she sees him, silent and strong, patient and kind with those around her. Of course, he is like that with everyone, he never loses his temper, he doesn't bark orders at anyone, he's the man that makes him, in trashy talkshow language, a 'man-of-the-day', except that he's technically married, (still) to ORB's Supreme Commander, or Princess or whatever Cagalli Yula Atha is known as.

Meyrin knows she loves him, although it started off as a sort of crush that seemed silly to even her, but she knows she loves him. And knowing that she does doesn't make it any easier to let go, not when he isn't even aware that he already has her heart. She knows she can never have him, but then she once dreamt that she could.

She wore hope, a heart on her sleeve, she made a quantum leap that day when she chose to follow behind Athrun Zala and not her sister and Shinn Asuka as they left the memorial, a reminder of the First and subequent wars. He left silently, he never said much, but then, Athrun Zala never does, and Meyrin trailed after him with a determination in her step that she would follow him. The ring she was passed to her was carefully locked in a box somewhere, hadn't she been given the ring and him?

But as the days passed, she saw that his smile was passive, his eyes held warmth but it wasn't channelled at her, no. That was meant as a thanks for all that she did for him, but sacrificing her career in ZAFT and simply brewing a cup of coffee had achieved the same smile and thanks. It made no difference, really. Whether she did something like die for him or simply hand up a report achieved the same thanks and smile, obviously, he didn't love her very much, although she was grateful that he didn't despise her.

And time was the best trial, she grew tired of a man beyond her reach, and Meyrin knew that she had lost to a person who wasn't even around to sight for Athrun Zala with her. But she never resented him or the person she suspected he could never forget, she resented the fact that she hadn't met him before that person did. It was difficult leaving almost everything behind, but one day, she knew it was time to do just that.

She had been living in an apartment near to his at that time, Aprilius City was congested with building less than ten meters away from each other, and the aprtment that she had been assigned had been Councilwoman Clyne's goodwill. By right, a traitor to ZAFT like her would not have been tolerated in a city of PLANT, lodging would have been revoked, but in the chaotic aftermath and a bit of string-tugging from the mediator of PLANT and EA, Meyrin stayed comfortably in a flat near Athrun Zala's. She was overjoyed that he was in such close proximity, for a while, she had thought that it was a sign, and she had been thrown into a sort of happiness she had never experienced before.

And eventually, she found out that Lacus Clyne had used her power to grant her a place near Athrun at another person's request.

And Meyrin had written a resignation letter to Athrun, and then she had left Aprilius City, resigned but not bitter. It wasn't as if she had nowhere to go, really. A part of her had hoped that he would chase after her, call her back and tell her that he needed her as much as she needed him, but then-

He didn't.

She had seen him go to Cagalli's side, that hadn't hurt, she knew Athrun needed that girl and she was happy, innocently happy for both.

So now, it really miffs Meyrin to know that Athrun Zala, a sort of neighbour who lives in the vicinity (she spotted him the other time), is willing to lose what he loves most.

He appeared in the same vicinity, he setlled into an apartment she used to look out for in the past, and even now, she still wonders how he has survived being apart from Cagalli.

(You see, she gouged the truth out of her neighbour one day, yes he is her neighbour, technically because they live in the same vicinity. She kept asking why he was back in PLANT and not in ORB, until he just told her the truth one day.

He looked tired, pained, and then she understood the meaning of 'marital woes'.

You see, Meyrin used to believe that marriage was the ultimate thing for a woman and life was just perfect after that.

You see, Meyrin Hawke was always quite idealistic on these things.)

Not anymore.

Funny how the fates arranged for Athrun Zala to rent a place near hers, the same one he used to live in when he started out as ETERNITY's chairman, because now, Meyrin feels old wounds reopening, and she checks them constantly to make sure she won't be a fool for him again.

Because being a fool is not the bad part, the bad part is him not knowing that she was the fool for him.

"You know," Meyin begins one day, "All that liquor you're downing doesn't seem to make you very drunk."

He is strangely attractive in his work shirt, devastating with his midnight hair swept impatiently back, (still slightly long, he always keeps it that way) and wonderfully masculine as he grips the glass angrily.

She gulps and reminds herself that she doesn't belong in his world, not when he doesn't love her the way he loves Cagalli.

He doesn't bother answering her. He does his work well, he doesn't drive when he's drunk, he doesn't smoke, he doesn't murder (anymore), he doesn't bring strange girls home and disturb the quiet and night, (and even if he did, from where she's living, she wouldn't really hear in any case,) what's her problem anyway?

He thinks to himself, "Good thing I didn't get together with someone who doubles as a counselor and not a lover."

He laughs, it is not a kind laugh.

It is scornful.

It is bitter.

"But you," Meyrin says, snatching away his glass, "Are stupid to think that you can forget Cagalli."

"Don't say her name," he hisses.

He is in pain.

Perhaps he is more drunk than he thinks, he thinks he still loves her. He thinks the sound of her name hurts. He thinks that he feels hurt. He knows he doesn't. Or rather, he knows he shouldn't.

"You know it hurts when I say her name," Meyrin continues calmly, "And you, are twenty-five, old by Coordinator standards, and yet you have a mentality of a Natural child, no insult intended, can't have EA, ORB and PLANT accusing me of ruining the peace now, can I?"

She is rambling, she is nervous, she wants to show him that he can do something.

He sees Cagalli's eyes in the glass, dull and weary, (she is still beautiful, when has she not been?), and the way she handed him the papers that he has chucked somewhere around, the way she refused to look at him.

He took them and left shortly after that. He's been alone since then.

"Listen," Meyrin says urgently, "You want her back? Go tell her to take you back!"

"It's over," he says hopelessly, and that is the most frightening, the lack of hope.

She makes an impatient noise.

He thinks of Cagalli.

"Only if you say it is," she responds defiantly.

He thinks of Cagalli.

He laughs, a hollow sound now, "Save that for the kids you teach in that kindergarten."

"You're one right now," she says, suddenly very fierce, "And you're a sorry case of a sick f- wait, I don't use that word, you're a sorry idiot. The only reason why you separated was because of a rift that needed time to mend. You relied too much on time didn't you? So you left her to fend for herself until she got tired of everything and wanted out. So that's that, we move on? No more til-death-do-us-part?"

"More or less," he mutters.

He reaches for more of the drink. She slaps his hand away, and he glares at her, too upset to be kind and gentle with her the way he treated her years ago on the Minerva. They know each other too well by now, she's certianly not as helpless as she once was, and he's not offering the help either.

She makes an exasperated sound, smacks the table top, and cries furiously, "Athrun Zala, you won't go to work tomorrow unless you get this sorted out tonight!"

He needs his work. If he doesn't have it, he'll think of her, and no, he doesn't want that. Anything but that.

He needs somewhere to go to. Some place where he won't be as tortured as he is now.

So he's alert when she says these words, and then his muind questions how she can make that threat a real one, but then he realises that Meyrin's eyes are swimming in tears.

The next thing he knows, she out of the door and she shouts in utter anger, "You damn idiot!"

She takes the drink with her, even when she fully knows that he has a stash somewhere around that he can open if he wants to be defiant.

She says that he is an idiot.

He thinks that he is one too.

* * *

**Athrun.**

Athrun Zala is the sort of person the world described as charismatic. He has no idea how that had happened, but then he never noticed that his smile and startling green eyes, along with his handsome, refined features that drew people near and worse, made them try to stay.

He ignores all this, it matters not.

Then irrevocably, he met her again, unfortunately, not by chance, politicans and those who held power always met at a certain point or another. Just that it was a case of sooner or later, and Athun wasn't sure if two years after the Second War was classified under the former or latter. But he remembered her, of course he did, how could he not?

After he had left her behind in ORB, after the Archangel left for MESSIAH, he tried to forget her.

The way he's doing now, after she's told him she want out.

And Athrun's sure he's failing exactly like he did before he married her and tried to forget her in the past.

Four years ago, he saw her at an event, dressed in black, no sea-green, no life left in her eyes.

She was still very beautiful in the unconventional way, as desirable as the world deemed her. And he had fought to win her back, battled tears and blood and sweat until Cagalli Yula Atha was his. Sometimes, he was jealous that she had no time for him, but on hindsight, sometimes, he had no time for her either. Loving her consisted very little of the word 'love' itself, it wasn't spoken at all, she never told him that she did and neither did he. But it didn't make it any less obvious. And there had been a place only they knew of, a place that belonged to only them.

His pact with her was, crudely put, more of a relationship that conisted of the waist and above than below. Athrun Zala wanted to keep her with him forever, he thought he could, but at a certain point, he knew he had lost her again.

She had given him those papers, hadn't she?

Yzak hadn't been quite so patient this time, his tone had been sharp and his words harsh, he'd said some things that actually stung.

And Athrun had attacked him in a mad rage.

But Yzak had sustained a few injuries at first, and then inflicted some on Athrun until they were equal. And Yzak had sneered at him and told him, "You're useless if you can lose a person like that."

Now he thinks Meyrin and Yzak are in cahoots.

It matters not of course, what they want to say is their own damn business.

Athrun Zala doesn't shirk his responsibilities, he is an important figurehead, he doesn't indulge in the sort of partying some other politicians do, he doesn't fight people on a whim like how Yzak used to do (not anymore, Yzak can't now) and he doesn't cause anyone any trouble. He wakes up, he goes to work, he comes home, he drinks and he sleeps, and he wakes up and he goes to work and he comes home, drinks and sleeps and the whole cycle repeats itself.

So it doesn't matter if he is dying inside without her, he doesn't cause anyone any harm, in fact, he's being more consicentious about his work than anybody else, and that, unlike many other things, matters.

Sometimes, he wonders what it might have been like if she hadn't miscarried. Or more accurately, he wonders what it would have been like if he hadn't been so helpless when she did, and he wonders what he might have done to step in earlier to help her. But she helped herself stand in the end, Cagalli Yula Atha doesn't really need him, and he doesn't really matter to her now.

So she shouldn't to him.

But sometimes, when he comes home to his apartment and before he can make his mind stop working for a while, he knows somewhere that she does.

And he is more desperate than ever for him to forget.

* * *

**Athrun.**

The next time Athrun sees her is a strange encounter, they have already sworn to keep a distance, 'separation' or some term that is a euphanism for marital woes. He can't bear seeing the papers, he had strewn them somewhere in a drawer about a year ago, and she has never bothered contacting him and pursuing the signature that was required to make it finalised since that time. But it didn't mean that they hadn't already lost the place that only they knew of.

The only reason why he happens to be in this place tonight is because Meyrin insisted that he go there to get a drink.

(She says if he's going to get drunk, he might as well do it in a new place other than his apartment.)

She told him firmly, earlier that evening, "Get out for a bit, go to the bar you used to go to, maybe you'll find inspiration to do something about your sorry self."

She didn't say anything about following him there, she brought him there, but then she refused to come in and he didn't ask her to anyway.

He obliged her because he wanted her to shut up for a while.

Now he thinks that Meyrin had insider information from somebody, because he has been drinking here for a while, (not too much to get wasted, Athrun posseses a sense of propriety even in his pain) and lo and behold, in steps his woman. Well, not really anymore, not if you want to get really technical.

In steps Cagalli Yula Atha.

He sets the glass down, stunned, but she doesn't see him, because the place is quite dark, there are many people, and the place he's sitting in is shrouded in shadows.

She is saying something to her acquaintance who nudges her forward reassuringly, obviously, her friend is telling her she ought not to coop herself up or something similar to what Meyrin told him (minus the getting drunk elsewhere part, probably) and Athrun thinks she looks beautiful.

He knows she does.

He sees how she is dressed for that night, he observes the way her eyes darts nervously to everything around her even as her acquaintances try to reassure her that the clothes they have chosen are stunning on her.

His eyes flicker to her fingers, she isn't wearing a ring.

He laughs cynically to himself, or course she isn't.

His eyes drift to her neckline, she isn't wearing a shell he gave her.

Her neck is bare, cold skin in the place here where temperatures are low to facilitate drinks and the general atmosphere, and somehow, Athrun knows the temperatures aren't the cause of her shivering.

Her dress is slightly revealing, he swallows, looking around, noticing some other staring appreciatively, and he feels insecure, as if he is the one in her position. She doesn't look very pleased about something, although he can't place what it is.

She isn't meant to be here, she is more suited for those upper-class, glitzy balls, but then she doesn't even want to be there, just that they have made her step out and not coop herself at home for once. So they've brought her to a bar, the sort that doesn't care if you are a politician or ruler of some country or some drunk idiot. That kind of thing matters not.

He is enraged when he sees some cadets smiling at her, not so much the obvious passes they tried to make, but the fact that she actually smiles back at them. It is a polite smile, nothing more, but the fact that she has even bothered doing so drives him insane.

She hasn't noticed that he was there too, she has somehow forgotten that a bar dominated by ZAFTies is a place that he, of all people, might have been well associated with. She has excused herself at a certain point and marched out of the bar, leaning against a rail, her hand clutching desperately at her purse, until she finally notices him standing before her, and she looks up, her amber eyes narrowed.

"Why are you here?" she demands. He frowns slightly, and then he knows that she feels foolish for asking a question like that then.

He crosses over to her in an instant and yanks her off the rail towards him, until their lips are barely inches apart. He looks down into her breathless face and tells her something that makes her blush, and he smiles, or smirks, either of which, at her.

And in the next instant, he kisses her fiercely, possesively even. She somehow pulls away, and panting, partially with rage, she shouts something rude at him and lands a stinging blow across his face before bolting. The insult she hurls at him, along with the slap, does nothing to deter him, instead, he is caught in the heat of the moment.

And there is a saying that there's a fine line between love and hatred.

He believes he has crossed that line.

He is faster than her, he sprints and blocks her way, until she is forced to stop.

He notices she is nearly in tears and she knows he has seen this, and she cries in frustration, (mostly to hide her embarrassment)

"Stop chasing!"

He chases because she is running from him, and she runs because he is chasing after her.

She looks painfully up at him, he sees, not for the first time this night, that she is as desirable as she has always been, not just to him, but many others. But her eyes are tortured, and he makes a decision there and then. But the words come out differently because he doesn't know how else she'll follow him and not run away from him.

He can't keep chasing, can he?

"Let's settle this once and for all," he tells her emotionlessly.

She pretends to think that he is referring to the papers he has avoided signing and finalising for the longest time, and she pretends to believe that following him back will obtain her the papers that will end it all. But she knows that there is something else in his green eyes. But she gives in, what else can she do?

So she nods and moves wearily after him.

He drives her back to the apartment, they say nothing in the car, nothing as they walk into the compound, nothing as they stand apart in the lift, nothing as they step into his quarters.

He will not say that it is home, it certainly isn't, how can it be?

She looks at the place he lives in quietly, it is neat, well-kept, in order, but somehow quite impersonal. She cares not, this matters not.

"You haven't changed much," she says awkwardly, she doesn't know what to say to break the silence, so telling him about his inherent ability to keep things in order is a clumsy attempt at best. But he doesn't really care about that part of his not changing after they separated, it is more of the issue that he still needs her.

He looks at her, and she sees something moving in his eyes, and then she knows she has fooled herself into coming here under the self-pretence that they want to end it all for good. He presses her against the wall desperately, kissing, pulling here, tugging there, and she knows it is far too late to forget the past. She clutches at him, she is begging and pleading him to think twice, but then her actions are saying otherwise.

She has repoened something and he knows to fill it. Some time here and there, she tries to tell him something, but he hushes her protests and makes her listen only to what he wants her to hear, he shuts all chances of them saying anything now, it is far too late to do anything other than know that he loves her. She fights him with every ounce of strength that she has, he laughs and holds the biting, scratching bonfire down until she is suddenly open, suddenly his again, suddenly telling him that she has never loved anyone but him, although he sees she has tears in her eyes at a point of time. He asks, a bit helplessly, what the matter is, but she shakes her head and tries to move away from below, but he prevents her from doing so. She doesn't fight him anymore, she can't anyway, not when he has binded her arms down with his own. He falls asleep, believing that in the morning, it was only a dream and that they were never apart, just like the way they are together now.

But in the morning, he awakes alone and is filled with rage and hopelessness when he sees the drawer he kept the papers in is now empty. She has left with them, she leaves nothing behind except the hazy memories of the night and the slight, lingering scent here and there, which will soon disappear anyway.

It is like being caressed with a butterfly wing and stung with a hornet's poison a second later.

He receives a call from her lawyer two days later, she wants him to sign them in four hours' time.

He puts the phone down and punches the wall, not feeling the impact it has on his fist which is sore for the next couple of hours.

It does not matter if the neighbours are unhappy with the noise. He is past caring about those now.

He dresses and checks his reflection, although to him, it matters not. Just that he doesn't want to bring her shame.

The meeting is in secret, a building used for corporate businesses and that sort of thing. He makes sure no cameras are trailing, he has spent nearly a year making sure nobody, not even Kira, knows that they live apart, he doesn't want to ruin it all in an instant. Perhaps later, he thinks bitterly, they'll have to discuss the press release.

(One does realise that the divorce of the ORB's Princess and one of PLANT's most prominent political and military figureheads is quite some news, of course.)

Her lawyer is a friend of hers, he used to hate that man, what was his name, oh yes, Goebbels.

He remembers, quite fondly actually, punching the bastard in the face. He lost his temper that day, he does that sometimes, Athrun Zala or not, he is human. Goebbels isn't a love rival, hell, far from it, Goebbels does have his green eyes, he wormed that out of Cagalli once, yes, but he is there because he is efficient.

Not because Cagalli is lonely as all human beings become once in a while and wants a replacement for him, Athrun Zala.

And he isn't sure which matters more, the efficient bit, or the slight doubt that Cagalli looks up at Goebbels with more than trust in her eyes. He remembers the look in them two nights ago, the way she looked fierce and proud, like an Amazon queen as he pinned her down with his forearms, and how an hour later, those same eyes held tears that he tried to kiss away.

He looks at her silently, she looks at Goebbels, that man hands him the papers coolly.

He resists the urge to whip out the gun under his coat, instead, he takes them and makes an effort to read them, but most of it is like a made-up language to him, Elvish or something like that. He doesn't understand, he doesn't want to understand.

But he takes the pen anyway, and he swallows heavily and signs.

A minute later, the papers are whisked away.

Out of his reach.

She stands, he looks silently at her, re-memorising her features, her beauty, her rawness, her pride, her warmth, and she looks away, denying him all of that. She looks beseechingly at Goebbels, he turns to her and leads her out, and Athrun wants to kill them both.

Or maybe, he just wants to kill himself.

* * *

**Cagalli.**

She swears silently, she knows if she makes too much of a noise, the bodyguards will want to know what's going on, they may suspect something wrong, and heck, she doesn't want that, because something really is wrong.

A week after the papers have been signed, she is feeling weak and tired, and they force her to see the doctor.

She sits still, he examines her, a strange look on his aged face, and she thinks of dried apples, brown and crackly when one bites into them.

Then he looks happily at her and exclaims something and she wants to scream and cry.

So she is with child now.

The world knows not of the news that papers have been arranged for and signed, she has not mustered the courage to say anything yet. To the world, Cagalli Yula Atha is still in ORB and her husband is still in PLANT on some top-secret ZAFT coordination programme that has sadly made them live apart for about a year now.

They don't know it's really all a lie.

But this does not matter, she has more important issues at hand now.

She has a country to run, as always.

And she's with child.

His child.

She barely can smile at the news, the doctor tells her that with the current technology, he hears two sets of heart beats other than her own, so three in total.

So the twin gene is really hereditary after all.

She curses and the doctor looks horrified at her lack of control, but a minute later, she has forced a bright, if not slightly pained smile on her face and stumbles out of the room, and the tears really do come.

She could have ran that day, she could have chosen to resist him, she could have denied herself and not followed him back, and now, she can choose to regret all that she did a week ago, but the matter of truth is that she doesn't.

She doesn't regret loving him, she doesn't regret following him back, and she doesn't regret having known Athrun Zala, although their union brought her equal parts pain and ecstasy, joy, all that that she knows she has lost now.

And she is still with child.

She can choose to terminate the twin lives in her, she can choose to pretend nothing happened a week ago, but she knows she cannot, she wants the twins in her to live, she wants them to be with her, she wants to be selfish, she wants something to remember Athrun Zala.

At night, she hugs herself, with an old shirt he left behind, just to feel him again, and she cries herself to sleep.

* * *

**Cagalli.**

She cannot hide the news any longer, her abdomen is swelling rapidly although she hasn't put on significant weight as of yet, but she doesn't want to lie to her brother and Lacus anymore.

So she makes sure nobody is listening outside her office, and she picks up the phone and activates the screen, and dials a long-distance number to PLANT.

Lacus answers, there are sounds of a child's laughter in the background, Leon is coming to two now, and he is a precocious child to say the least. And Cagalli feels pain somewhere although she knows it isn't physical.

"I want to tell you something," Cagalli says helplessly, and then she tells Lacus about the divorce.

Lacus says nothing, there is a stunned silence and then the anguish in the silence from both ends is apparent.

And Cagalli hurtles on, anything to break that god-awful silence.

"And I'm pregnant," she adds bitterly.

Impossible, Lacus says helplessly, if they were apart for so long (without telling Kira and her, no less), there is no way Cagalli could be with child, unless the child, or rather, the children (twins, right?) is not Athrun's child but-

She stops herself in time, she has insulted Cagalli without meaning to, but Cagalli does not say anything.

All this does not matter.

The truth does, and so she speaks up, painfully, "I was in PLANT a week ago."

That explains everything, and it is as if she has dropped a bomb, Lacus cries out in dismay, the situation is damned and confusingly complicated, now everything has changed.

Lacus reassures her everything is all right, not terminating the pregnancy is neither bad or good, but Lacus will support her in any way in her ability, and Cagalli smiles thinly and hangs up eventually.

In PLANT, Kira is as dismayed as Lacus, his eyes are saddened as he bounces Leon on his lap, and the boy speaks up, "Dad, what's the matter?"

"Nothing," he reassures the child, still amazed at the fluency the child posseses, Kira never did speak as fluently as a child, Lacus, (well he isn't sure, perhaps he'll ask her later), "It's nothing, don't worry."

The child doesn't know that his Aunt and the man who named him are being eaten alive from the inside.

"Does Athrun know?" he asks Lacus later.

She shakes her head, her eyes are large and worried, and he sighs and tells her to sleep early, he still has work, but she should have her rest at least.

Kira doesn't know how to approach Athrun, Athrun, as far as he can see, has dropped the facade even Kira didn't know he had on for a year.

The man is a wreck, not obviously, but his eyes are tortured, he is shaven, yes, he is, but there is this misery around him, and then he has applied for a week's leave and spends his time in his apartment, doing God-knows-what.

Kira is worried, but above that, he is furious at the stupidity his best friend and sister are displaying.

He strides into the apartment with a spare key Meyrin obtained from the landlady, he knows his best friend too well to hope that Athrun will open up for him. He notes that the house is untidy, there are books here and there, uneaten instant dinners half-opened and uncooked, as if the person who had opened them had been forced to try and eat to avoid starvation but lost appetite at the end, and there is his best friend, sitting at the table and pouring through his work, as if that solves everything.

Athrun looks up, startled at Kira's appearance, and his countenance is grim in an instant.

"You came," he says emotionlessly, and Kira sits down slowly and says, "I heard about the divorce."

"Ongoing, yes," Athrun says bitterly, his green eyes like a dark forest, "I suppose it'll be certain in a month's time."

There is a terrible silence.

"You know," Kira says steadily, "Cagalli is pregnant."

There is a stunned silence.

Athrun leaps up, insane joy spread like wings on his features, his green eyes alight with happiness, and he chokes, "T-that's wonderful!"

Kira shakes his head tiredly, motioning for his friend to sit, and he says carefully, "Don't get your hopes up, nobody said it was y-"

He stops himself, perhaps he is being too cruel with Athrun.

Athrun sinks back into his chair, Kira watched as shock morphs into doubt, then certainty and pain then anger and then pain again.

'A myriad of emotions from someone who was trained to be emotionless', Kira thinks. His twin was remarkably impactful on Athrun Zala then, she must have taught him how to show his feelings at one point or another.

"She couldn't have-, no, no Cagalli wouldn't-"

Athrun stammers, now his eyes are filled with hatred and helplessness, and he covers his face with his hands. The simple band of steel-coloured metal is no longer there, Kira notices, perhaps he took it off a long time ago. Then he wonders if Cagalli still has her own ring on, perhaps she has followed suit, just like Athrun.

"I don't know," Kira says calmly, "Cagalli thinks it's Benjamin Goebbel's child, and from what I've seen, that's possible, and besides, you two have been apart for nearly a year. It's impossible for the child to be yours if you have been ap-"

"I took her here a week ago," Athrun interrupts, his voice devoid of emotion.

There is a sad silence all around them, and Kira doesn't know what to say.

"Whatever the case is," he says eventually, "The divorce takes full effect in a month's time, and Cagalli, whether she keeps the child or not, and whether it is yours or not, will take her name if Goebbels' refuses to."

A look of pure fury crosses his friend's face, and Athrun hisses, "I'll take the child as mine even if it isn't!"

He means it, he'll do it because he loves Cagalli and there is no chance of him hiding it at this stage anymore.

"That isn't for you to decide any longer," Kira says calmly, although he is in pain, (he knows he shouldn't show it here), "If Cagalli thinks it's for the best, she will. Just bear in mind that she doesn't want to implicate you and cause problems in the future for you, the child, if born that is, will probably bear either Goebbels' name or hers in the worst case scenario. Lacus offered to take the child in if Cagalli couldn't cope, but Cagalli, you know she's a proud woman."

There is a hint of sadness and admiration in his last words.

Then he turns to leave, and as he moves out, he throws the spare key on the couch and leaves his best friend exactly where he found him, only this time, with the man's face hidden in his hands, although the tears streaming down the cheeks are obvious by now.

Kira sighs when he is a distance away from the sorry apartment. He takes out his phone and asks Cagalli, "I told him what you wanted. I hope it works out alright, I don't think he really believed that the child wasn't his. Come to think of it, I didn't bother mentioning the part about twins."

She thanks her brother half-heartedly, she knows it's for the best, what she's doing now, Goebbels has agreed to stage his role in her elaborate pretence, and then later, the children will bear her name.

She'll protect them, she'll make sure they will be loved, and that they will belong to a place that they love back. And she has made arrangements for the top doctors, sworn in on secret, to do scans with state-of-the-art technology to modify genes of the twins in her if need be, she knows Athrun will be on the lookout, quite inevitably, for the midnight hair and emerald eyes. Either of these is enough to make trouble for Athrun, and Cagalli does not want that.

On second thought, the emerald eyes are fine.

She sits in the office, thinking hard, hating herself for being able to be so cunning.

Goebbels has green eyes, maybe the act will be more convincing that way, and then she'll have something left in the children at least. And she will protect them even if the world is against her, because they are her children and she'd die for them if she was asked to choose between her life or theirs.

And that's all that matters now.

The rest, it matters not.

* * *

**I hope I don't get flamed by those ASUCAGA fans out there. Don't worry, Truth be Told doesn't end like this, this is just a stage that will come soon, if you have been reading. There were some hints of the first story Truth, (prequel to the aforementioned), I hope those who have finished reading this but not Truth weren't confused here and there.**

**I wanted a slightly more gritty feel here, less sugar and all that. I hope that came across.**

**Please make my day, R&R, tell me what you think.**


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